Flash Fiction, tutto e niente


Lucy stared at the board. Letting her mind drift back to childhood. Chin resting on the table. Watching her grandfather play. Try too hard and it went fuzzy. Like a picture with the autofocus off. But if she just let her brain float sometimes she could recapture that moment of joy. When it all made sense. When it was fun. Before. Before she was a novelty. Before she was girl genius. Intellectual heir to Hawking. Right down to the chair. But today it remained fuzzy. The timer ticked. Counting. Days. Weeks. Months. Years. She stared at the board. Floating.

black and white game match chess
Photo by Breakingpic on Pexels.com

Cover Photo Credit: Jeff Arnold

Written for Friday Fictioners

Word Count: 99

22 thoughts on “Floating”

  1. Lovely writing, Tina. It seems she is mourning the loss of her more innocent self, something I think most of us have done at some point or another. Her brilliance and the labelling of her as the girl genius have blurred her carefree memories.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. The atmosphere was perfect. Her out of focus experience can lead to many interpretations. Mine took a sad turn: brilliant or not, her present is not the happiest, and it shadows the past pleasures, almost as if they were not fully real.

    Liked by 1 person

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